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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22441366">these streets have too many names for me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tentaclemonster/pseuds/tentaclemonster'>tentaclemonster</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>100 Fandoms Challenge [48]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Christine - Stephen King</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>100 Fandoms Challenge, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 11:55:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,418</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22441366</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tentaclemonster/pseuds/tentaclemonster</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Arnie’s stomach clenched with nausea, the walls of the phone booth feeling like they were closing in, his grip on the receiver going white-knuckled, and the phone itself rang and rang and rang and – </p>
<p>Dennis’ voice, a little tired, a little bored, “Hello?”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Arnold Cunningham &amp; Dennis Guilder</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>100 Fandoms Challenge [48]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1257083</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>The 100 Multifandom Challenge</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>these streets have too many names for me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>048/100 for the 100 Fandoms Challenge. Written for prompt #87 – run.</p>
<p>Title from the song “These Streets” by Paolo Nutini.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Arnie’s hand was so tight on the phone, he might have been able to hear the plastic of it creaking in his sweat-slicked hand if his pulse wasn’t so loud, if he wasn’t so focused on the ringing coming across the line as though his very life depended on what would happen when that ringing stopped. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Behind him, Christine was there to remind him that his life maybe did. Christine’s beauty and the rotting thing that was LeBay inside of her whose voice and stench were equally as loud, equally as alluring as Christine in some repulsive way, calling for him to get back in the car, Arnie, come on, there’s no sweeter ride. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Arnie shouldn’t have wanted to, shouldn’t have wanted to get anywhere near LeBay – or Buddy or Richie or Moochie, the whole overflowing funeral home’s lot of them beckoning him from Christine’s familiar seats. Nothing about them or the decomposing flesh of them should have made Arnie </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> anything but to run screaming away, but some part of him still did want, still looked at Christine and thought there would be nothing better than to climb back inside. What was a little rotting flesh? He was one of them, too, wasn’t he? He belonged in Christine as much as they did, more than they did, didn’t he?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arnie’s stomach clenched with nausea, the walls of the phone booth feeling like they were closing in, his grip on the receiver going white-knuckled, and the phone itself rang and rang and rang and – </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dennis’ voice, a little tired, a little bored, “Hello?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dennis,” Arnie half breathed out, half sobbed. The relief came over him like a heart attack, a sudden, painful sharpness in the left side of his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Arnie?” No longer bored or tired, that voice. No, that voice was all worry. Worry as clear as bells ringing in the wind, and something cleared in Arnie, too, at hearing it. The stench pouring out of Christine lessened, the walls of the phone booth stopped closing in. “Arnie, are you alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no I’m –“ Arnie let out a wet, hiccuping laugh. “Dennis, there’s something – there’s something </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span> with me. There’s something wrong with --” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arnie’s throat clenched on Christine’s name. He couldn’t say it, couldn’t – </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dennis could. “Is it – Arnie, is this about Christine?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arnie made a strangled noise that only vaguely sounded like a ‘yes’.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dennis,” Arnie choked out with an effort, “I didn’t – I didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>see</span>
  </em>
  <span> it before, but now – yes, yes, it’s – it’s – it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Dennis. It’s her!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dennis was quiet for such a long moment that Arnie was afraid that he’d hung up, even though he couldn’t hear the dial tone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dennis?” Arnie asked, worried.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Denni’s voice came back, all brisk, “Arnie, where are you now?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“At the phone booth outside Gino’s.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And...and what about Christine? Where’s she?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arnie felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck, like someone – no, some</span>
  <em>
    <span>thing</span>
  </em>
  <span> – was standing right behind him. It took every ounce of willpower he had left, whatever wasn’t being spent on staying upright in the phone booth, to not turn around and look, to not turn around and see Christine idling all perfect red and white on the street, LeBay’s empty eyes and rotten, worm filled mouth smiling out at him from her front seat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Arnie?” The worry in Dennis’s voice had increased, had made him sound shrill.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s right outside,” Arnie said softly, like she might hear him if he were any louder. “I drove her here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, alright –“ Dennis took in a shaky breath, exhaled it. “Arnie, listen –“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arnie listened. He didn’t think he’d ever listened to anything so hard in his life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want you to come to the hospital. Now. Right now, I mean. As soon as we’re off the phone, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arnie nodded his head vigorously and when he realized Dennis couldn’t see him do it, he said, “Okay. Okay, yeah, I’ll –“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And Arnie?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t drive,” Dennis pleaded. “I don’t care how you get here. Get a bus, hitch a ride, </span>
  <em>
    <span>steal</span>
  </em>
  <span> one, but just – Arnie, promise me you won’t get back in Christine. Promise me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arnie felt like crying and then he felt wetness dripping down his face and realize that he was. He felt, too, like Dennis was asking him to promise to cut off one of his limbs, and that voice in his head – LeBay’s voice, it was LeBay, it had been LeBay for so long now and Arnie hadn’t noticed – yelled at him, said Dennis was a shitter, a shit friend, that no real friend would ask him to give up his girl, give up Christine, perfect perfect Christine, that – </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Arnie,” Dennis pleaded, cutting that old man’s voice off clean. “Arnie...please.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sobbing and light-headed, Arnie managed to say, “Alright. Al-alright, I won’t drive her. I promise I won’t drive her. I promise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good,” Dennis breathed out. “That’s good, Arnie. That’s – that’s great. Now just...hang up the phone and get here, okay? Get here as quick as you can.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arnie shut his eyes tight and leaned his forehead against the wall, the phone still clenched in his hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Arnie, come on, man,” Dennis said after a few beats of silence. “Just hang up and get here and we’ll – we’ll talk about all this and figure it out. Everything will be better once you get here, but you have to get out of that booth first, alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you promise?” Arnie begged. “I promise not to get in Christine, Dennis. I swear I won’t, but you have to promise me – you – you </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to –“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I promise,” Dennis’ voice came out strong, firm. “I swear to god, Arnie, I’ll make it better. We’ll talk about it and we’ll figure out what to do to get you better. I’ve never lied to you before, have I?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Arnie answered immediately, taking a deep breath. “No, you haven’t. You’re the only one – you’re the only one I can count on, Dennis.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then trust me, Arnie, and hang up the phone and get here and – and don’t get in Christine. Let me trust you, too, man. Keep your promise to me like I’m going to keep mine to you, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.” Arnie swallowed hard. He clenched his eyes shut, tears still spilling down them, and then he exhaled shakily and opened them. “Okay, I’m – I’m hanging up now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, Arnie. That’s good – that’s...I’ll see you soon, okay? That’s a promise, too, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Arnied agreed, “that’s a promise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And with his hand shaking around the phone, Arnie put it back in its place, hanging up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stood in the phone booth, pulse beating rapidly and breathing as shaky as if he’d just run a five miler without stopping and legs just as shaky as he stepped out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arnie took one look at Christine there on the street, one look at LeBay’s unsmiling, rotten face staring him down from the driver’s seat, and he let out a low, mournful moan, his body taking one jerky step towards her like he was a dog on a leash that had just been cruelly jerked forward by its owner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But one step was all Arnie took. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arnie remembered Dennis – Dennis promising him that he would make it better, Dennis who answered the phone and talked to him and listened to him when even Leigh and his own parents wouldn’t, Dennis who had never lied to him, who had stuck by him when his face was pimple-filled and leaking and who had saved his ass more times than he could count.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dennis who Arnie had promised he wouldn’t – would </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span>, no matter </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span> – get back in Christine, a thing he couldn’t even have promised Leigh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dennis, Dennis, Dennis. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arnie thought of Dennis sitting there in his hospital bed waiting for Arnie, worried about Arnie, caring about Arnie, and with a steadying breath and an angry, defiant look shot at LeBay or whatever used to be LeBay that was sitting in Christine, Arnie turned away from him and her both with an effort and took off running as fast as he could away, his pace increasing as he turned the corner and she was completely out of his sight, heedless of the counterman at Gino’s voice yelling at him about the pizza he could no longer even think of stomaching.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arnie ran and ran and ran as though he thought Christine might have been chasing him and never once did he look back to see if she was.</span>
</p>
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